Recently, I got my first tattoo. That’s it there, at the top of the page. It’s on the inside of my left arm and I’m very happy with it. Before I got it, I did a fair bit of research via the Internet. This was something of a pain because I had to wait for the Internet to be invented first, because it was 1992 when I decided to get one.
On a treacherously beautiful spring morning, my Dad woke up with a stomach ache and an hour later we were waiting for the undertaker to come and take him away forever.
“There is no coincidence; only the illusion of coincidence.”
The Spires. The Inspiration. The Green Room. The Avenue. The Moulin Rouge. The Bradbury Cub. The Gardener’s Arms. Manhattan. Xanadu. Sapphires. Dropout. These are my unseen things.
As a youngster I wanted to be a pilot. Specifically, I wanted to fly Incom Corporation T-65 Starfighters. Even more specifically, I wanted the hallowed ‘Red Five’ callsign. Accepting that Star Wars wasn’t real took me a long time and I have a sneaking suspicion that on some level, I never really have.
When I was about 20 I had my first psychometric test. I was going for a job. I can’t remember what job or where. I have always been interested in psychology, and I do remember being excited about the prospect of taking a psychometric test as part of the interview process even though it was – well, let’s just say it was quite a while ago and leave at that, shall we?